Breathe
by Auntieoaty
Summary: Walt misses Vic and has had a long week. This story is intended to answer some of the questions from Craig Johnson's book A Serpent's Tooth. I posted here and not in the FF Book area because I thought it would be seen here and I didn't know which book would be the best choice, as it kind of encompasses A Serpent's Tooth some of Johnson's short stories.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This story is intended to answer some of the questions from Craig Johnson's BOOK A Serpent's Tooth. Warning: Loaded with SPOILERS, if you haven't read the book yet, you have been warned :) For those who are wondering why I posted here and not in the FF Book area - I thought it would be seen here and likely missed under Books; I also didn't know which book would be the best choice, as it kind of encompasses A Serpent's Tooth some of Johnson's short stories. Special thanks to ThinkingBeforeTalking

Vic had left three days before Christmas. I had spent the week plus battling blizzard conditions; including overturned big rigs, civilian traffic accidents, and the problems that arose from the various power outages. I spent the earlier part of this evening with Lucian and some of the other residents at The Durant Home for Assisted Living. My focus at this point was on going home and collapsing for the next week. I had stopped in at the office to check my post-its and make sure there was nothing pressing I needed to attend to right away. The messages were all summaries of solved or otherwise cleared calls in to the office. Nothing pending. There were only two other messages for me and to my great dismay neither was from Vic. I hadn't talked with her since early yesterday, all my calls today went straight to voice mail. She wasn't due home until the day after tomorrow. My hand went to the phone and automatically dialed the number related to the first message on the blotter in front of me. As I read the second message telling me Ruby was keeping Dog until January 2, I heard the first ring, the second ring, and then, "It is a festive evening at The Red Pony Bar and Grill and continual soirée."

I was sitting in The Red Pony. Why? I really wasn't sure. In years past it hadn't bothered me to sit in my home away from home on New Year's Eve without a date. Tonight was different. Henry had insisted I come by the bar for a decent meal, he said I owed myself that much after the week I had had. He said it would help clear my head and that it would be easier to sleep on a full stomach. There was a litany of additional reasons he pursued until I finally relented and agreed to stop by on my way home.

Since arriving I had had two beers, several pieces of bite sized Bruschetta, an oversized plate of Chicken Marsala, butternut squash ravioli, grilled vegetables, a bowl of salad topped with dry bleu cheese and Italian vinaigrette, and had just finished a generous serving of Tiramisu. The Italian fair was delicious and I missed Vic even more. Several years ago Henry had decided to spotlight foods from other countries each New Year's Eve; appetizers through to dessert. Henry had made good on the meal but had been so busy serving the assembled crowd any conversation between us was pending. Henry breezed past me, as I sat on the first stool at the end on of the bar, he rounded to the back of the bar to answer the phone. He picked up after the customary second ring and following his signature address his voice lowered as he answered with a few yeses. I heard him say something about his office that I couldn't quite make out as he turned his back to the burgeoning noise of the bar. He wrote something down and passed it to one of his servers as she hustled behind the bar on her way to the kitchen. My hand extracted my pocket watch, I glanced down and noted it was ten minutes to midnight. I was not looking forward to staying and watching all the couples in the bar ringing in the New Year together. I was alone, missing Vic, and generally feeling sorry for myself. All the reasons for my little pity party were not completely clear; but the feeling itself was painfully evident. Henry was still on the phone with his back to the bar when I stood and pulled on my coat, flipping the collar up. Knowing Henry would understand if I left made me inclined to wait at least until he ended his call. I sat back down and turned to look over my shoulder at the patrons; some squeezed around the table, some dancing, and other's watching the large screen television mounted on the far wall. The place had more people in it than I had ever seen, over my other shoulder I heard the door open and a the sounds of few more people coming in. I heard Henry replace the receiver of the phone into the cradle on the wall and glanced in his direction.

He frowned when he saw my coat, "Walt, you are not leaving so soon." The words were not a question but rather a flat statement.

My mouth refused to deliver the full smile I had attempted but I hoped my words would sound more gracious, "Henry, I'm tired and very full. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious. Now, I want to get home before I fall asleep where I sit. I appreciate your invitation and I promise to call you tomorrow."

The corners of his mouth raised almost imperceptivity, "I understand. But will you at least wait long enough for me to get a package ready for you to take with you. You have been at the station or out on calls all week and I doubt you have anything in the cabin fit to eat. You will need breakfast." I stood and started to speak but he narrowed his gaze and spoke softly but firmly, "Sit, it will not take me very long. I promise." He waited patiently until I sat before turning for the kitchen.

A moment later I felt the friendly slap of a strong hand on my shoulder, "Hiya Walt, Happy New Year!"

I turned slightly toward the man, "Hey Omar, you too."

While my mind had thought to wish him a Happy New Year in return, my mouth had vetoed the thought by refusing to voice the word happy. My head dropped and my eyes inspected the grain of the bar top. The noises surrounding me indicated the excitement was building and I knew without checking my watch that the countdown would be starting in a couple of minutes. I sighed, tired of the persistent cycle of unproductive thoughts I knew would consume my mind soon.

The bar stool I sat on was pivoted to the side, my gaze followed as my head rose in response to the movement. An almost feral expression met my questioning one in return. I had barely registered the familiar face before she moved into the opening she had made between me and the bar. Her hands fisted into the fabric of my shirt and pulled. Surprise dominated, the electric current that flashed with the contact of our lips quickly receded, my mind scrabbled to process what was happening. In contrast to the intense expression in her eyes, her kiss was unexpectedly tender almost hesitant. Her arms snaked up my chest and around my neck allowing her to lock them crisscrossed across the back of my head; effectively locking me head to hers. The kiss felt like a tangle of emotion; fear, grief, need, hope, and others I didn't have time to identify. I began to think it was simply my mind replaying my own myriad of emotions from the past two months. But when she broke the kiss and eased the tension of her arms, I looked into her eyes and knew Vic had been feeling all those things. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes and were just beginning to pool across her lower lids.

A smile twitched at one corner of her mouth as she whispered, "Happy New Year?"

"Yep"

She slipped her arms down my chest, wrapped them around my waist, and buried her face in my shirt front. The uncharacteristic vulnerability I had seen in her eyes caused me to instinctively draw my coat up along either side of her in an attempt to protect her, shield her from prying eyes. I gently rested my chin on her head. There was no telling what kind of fierce retaliation might befall members of the citizenry who later questioned Vic about this moment. I was grateful she was mostly obstructed from any indentifying view by my coat and me. The back of her coat and head were only thing readily seen and that was only to those behind the bar. She took the briefest of moments to compose herself then lifted her head. I felt her stir and pulled my head back just enough to see her face.

"Walt?"

"Hmm?"

"Take me home."

"Right."

I heard the crowd, "Ten!"

She didn't release my waist but continued to hold my eyes to hers.

"Nine!"

I held her firmly as I carefully stepped from the bar stool.

"Eight!"

Keeping her cocooned in my jacket I cautiously moved her backward toward the door.

"Seven!"

I noticed Henry move along side me, set a suitcase down, and reach for the door handle.

"Six!"

He pulled the door open and stood to the side to let us through.

"Five!"

I could hear Henry's footfalls into the snow as he follow us out into the snow dusted parking lot.

"Four!"

The closed door and distance did little to mute the voices of the crowd.

"Three!"

I felt in my coat pocket and thumbed the unlock button for the Bullet.

"Two!"

Henry again stepped passed me and set the suitcase down.

"One!"

He pulled the passenger door open and place Vic's suitcase, carry-on bag and two large brown paper to go bags on the back seat.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

I hugged Vic tighter to me and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

Henry stepped back from the doorway of the Bullet, place a hand on Vic's back and one on my shoulder and softly said, "Happy New Year!" Then he quietly and swiftly retreated to the bar.

I pulled back from her a little, used a knuckle under her chin to raise her face to mine, and then lowered my head to hers. It was brief but definitely not a one sided kiss. Moving from her mouth I nuzzled Vic's neck, for just a moment and whispered, "Happy New Year." When I raised my head from her neck I saw a faint smile shimmer across her mouth. Vic still had not let go of my waist, so I backed her to the open doorway of the truck. When she felt the contact of the vehicle behind her, she slid her hands to my sides and looked up at me. Her exhaustion evident in the sigh and a weak attempt to smile. She started to speak but her words stalled as I quickly released her, shifted my position, and swept her into my arms. She ducked her head to my shoulder as I lifted her up into the cab. I set her down on the seat but was slow in releasing my grip on her, easing myself away a little at a time.

She lifted her head from my shoulder and I placed my forehead against hers, "Yours or mi..."

Her voice was firm in its sharp whisper, cutting off my question, "Yours."

I pulled myself away from her and nodded as I handed her the seat belt and closed both doors on the passenger side. My hand went to my coat pocket and extracted the keys as I walked around to the driver's side and climbed in.

The usually short mile seemed to take ten times as long, it wasn't the snow, and it was probably not even twice to time; it just felt that way. We didn't speak. I thought Vic might still be working on reigning in her emotions. Aware that when she got emotional and started to cry she would get frustrated with herself, cry more, and end up angry, I thought she could use the silence. My not talking stemmed from not knowing what to say and fearing I might pick the wrong thing resulting in fast tracking Vic to angry. The Bullet rolled to a stop near the cabin, I put it in park, got out walked around the truck, and opened the door for Vic. She took my proffered hand as she stepped down from the truck as I popped the suicide door to retrieve the luggage and food. We made our way into the cabin; Vic carrying the food bags, me toting her carry-on and suitcase.

"Bedroom?" I was afraid to ask if she was staying the night, afraid she would say no.

She nodded and draped her coat on the back of my recliner, "Yeah." Her tone was firm and carried sardonic hint of 'where the hell else would they go?'.

As I walked to the bedroom I allowed myself to feel some relief in the knowledge that she was indeed planning to stay at least for one night. After depositing her bags on the bed I turned to go back to the front room and found Vic standing in the bedroom door way.

"You bought furniture?"

"Yep."

She stared at me. I have learned I have difficultly waiting longer than her, I shrugged, "I thought if I was getting married it might be a good idea."

She arched an eyebrow at me, "Are you getting married?"

I expelled a deep breath and forced myself to hold her gaze, "I don't know..." The eyebrow rose even higher, distracting me slightly as I marveled at just how high she was able to push the brow up. The distraction was short lived as I returned my eyes to hers, "... Are we still engaged?"

Her mouth twitched into a crooked grin, I noted she was trying not to laugh, "Were we ever actually engaged Walt?"

"What? You asked me..."

With a shake of her head she interrupted, "I tried to get you to ask ..."

My jaw set and I interrupted her with a nod, "That's right." I leaned an arm across the top of the tall dresser, and sought her eyes. An expectant expression stared back at me. "And, I don't think I ever did."

Her expression shifted to a neutral, unreadable one and she shook her head.

"Is it too late?" I drew my arm down from the dresser and turned my open palm to her. Vic held my eyes a few moments longer. So I decided to nudge her attention to my hand, "I didn't just buy furniture." I dropped my own gaze to the small velvet box.


	2. Chapter 2

Vic was sitting on one of the stools at the counter in the kitchen when I came in the back door with the final arm load of wood. After depositing it in the rack by the wood stove I slowed my steps and enjoyed the view, thinking how much I had missed her and how happy I was that she was back. My heart skipped a beat when I slid onto the stool next to her and realized the small jewelry box was sitting on the counter. The box was closed and she hadn't put the ring on. She hadn't answered me in the bedroom. So I had simply placed the little box in her hand and left her to make the decision. It was a pressure she didn't need right now, I knew that and I had intended to wait. I bought to ring in a moment of optimism, but thought I would hold it in reserve for awhile; until I was sure Vic still wanted to marry me. Standing there with her in the bedroom I had seen the box out of the corner of my eye and thought I should give it to her before she noticed the box on her own. It was impulsive and now I was beginning to think it may have been a mistake. She was rubbing an index finger back and forth across the velveteen box; making and erasing lines.

My voice held little volume, "Open it, it's yours."

She kept her eyes on the box, "Not yet. If I do I probably won't be able to say what I need to."

Again my heart skipped a beat. Did I want to hear this? I had to hear it no matter how much I wanted to hide or at the very least change the subject to something innocuous. I took a deep breath and exhaled, "Okay."

I waited.

"I'm sorry."

I waited some more. Although I desperately wanted to ask what she was talking about, I was afraid she would stop talking altogether.

"I shouldn't have run off."

"I just thought you needed a little distance."

"Shut up."

I did. And tried not to get distracted in second guessing myself as to why I had opened my mouth when I knew better. Really.

Her voice was soft, she still faced away from me, and I had to concentrate on her words so I wouldn't miss anything she said.

"I had been trying to get up the courage up to tell you I wanted more. You know, the hearth and home part?"

I nodded to the back of her head but didn't dare say anything.

"Walt, I swear I only discovered I was pregnant that morning. I hadn't even gotten my head around it and the next thing I knew I wasn't anymore."

My heart ached to hold her, tell her I understood; but I didn't, at least not completely. I wanted to assure her that I believed her. She sighed and sniffed. My hand automatically went to my back pocket for my handkerchief. Handkerchief in hand, I laid it over her arm. She took it with her other hand and I risked leaving my hand on her arm. It seemed to be a good sign that she did not shrug it off.

"We were caught up in that damn Church of the Sheep case and all I could think was I didn't want to share you or lose you and then I found out I was going to have your baby. I was scared but couldn't remember being happier." The handkerchief swiped at her eyes again and I held my tongue and resisted the urge to move my other hand to her. She drew in a deep breath, "Then it was all gone and I wasn't even sure it had really happened."

I watched as she turn to face me.

"It did happen though didn't it? I mean all of it?"

I nodded, the words I'd been wanting to say failed to reach my mouth.

She stared.

My body won the ongoing argument with my brain and I opened my arms to her. Vic leaned toward me and I slid from my stool so I could get closer to her and wrapped my arms securely around her. A strange sensation pushed its way through my body. Vic was back, but I was home. Usually, I get sidelined by a woman crying, but in this moment I knew just holding her and keeping my mouth shut was enough.

A few minutes passed and Vic pulled back to look at me and then the damp spots on the front of my shirt. She scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. On a deep sigh she dropped her forehead to my chest, "Geez, I'm turning into a damned blubbering wuss."

I tried not to but a laugh escaped me. She hit me, which I knew would happen if I lost the fight with the laugh. I pushed her away from me just enough to see her face, "Geez? You said, 'Geez' Guess I'm rubbing off on you, huh?"

"Shut up." Laughter laced her words.

"Okay." My arms wrapped around her again. I rested my chin on her head and risked a few more words, "You're are not a damned blubbering wuss."

I felt her dismissive sigh, as the forces of her exhale forced the warmth through the fabric of my shirt. We stood there for another few minutes and then I felt her shift slightly, "I'm starved! I haven't had a decent thing to eat since I left Philadelphia this morning. What all did Henry put in those bags? I didn't look in any of the containers, I just took them out of the bags and stuck them in the refrigerator."

I put my hands on her shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze. "Does it matter? It's Henry's food you know it'll be good. You go get a shower and I'll put a plate together for you."

I built a fire while Vic went to take a shower and change clothes. Knowing she was not only scrubbing off the trip home but the entire visit with her family, I was sure she would be longer than usual in the shower. Once the fire was well under way, I moved from the wood stove in the front room to the kitchen to put together a snack for her. Henry had put Vic's dinner on one of the plates from the Red Pony and covered it with wax paper. On top of the paper was a sticky note with directions for reheating the meal. I placed the meal inside the microwave and pushed the appropriate buttons, figuring I would wait until Vic came out of the bedroom before pushing enter. Henry had stocked us well. In addition to Vic's complete meal matching my earlier one there were two servings of Tiramisu, two cans of iced tea, two cans of Rainier beer, and two complete Denver omelet breakfasts; complete with hash browns, and extra crisp bacon for in the morning.

Not really sure what else to do I filled the time arranging and then rearranging Henry's food gifts in my refrigerator. I heard the bedroom door open behind me, I stood and turned to face Vic. My eyes traveled the length of her starting at her feet, which were hard to miss as she shuffled around in my slippers. Her pajama pants were a heavy fleece material, the ones I knew she reserve for extremely cold weather conditions. To complete her outfit she wore one of my old Denver Broncos sweatshirts. She looked really cute in the oversized shirt but I knew better than to tell her.

"I wondered where that shirt was." She pushed the right sleeve up for what was the third or fourth time since entering the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, I took it with me so I could have something to remind me of you while I was gone."

I made my way around the counter, walked over to her and took a hold of the errant sleeve. Cuffing it several times, so it wouldn't keep falling past her fingertips, I rested the roll at her wrist. "I think it looks better on you than it ever did on me."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I noticed you had my Philly shirt lying on the bed."

"Yep."

She smirked knowingly, "But that's not same bed that you had when I left."

"Yes it is. It just has a new bed frame. But, you're right, I made sure to put it back on the bed after all the furniture was set up."

Her face showed she noticed the shift in my thoughts. "What?"

I shrugged, "I just couldn't bring myself to sleep here without you."

Her hands patted and curled into the fabric of my shirt, walking their way up my chest and around my neck, like a cat's paws. With each movement of her hands she drew me closer to her. I cooperated by bending slightly to close the distance between us.

Her eyes glittered with those little mesmerizing flecks of gold and I felt her breath against my mouth, "I missed you, Walt."

I managed to say, "I missed you too…" before she closed the distance between our lips.

The kiss was possessive, consuming, and full of promise. Returning to consciousness, my back indicated that we had been engrossed in our embrace for a considerable period of time. Knowing Vic was usually less than thrilled when I picked her up and moved her around, I chose not to tempt fate twice in the same night. Besides, I was fairly sure my back would protest as much as Vic. Without break our embrace I slowly and carefully maneuvered us toward the stools at the counter. Once we reached the stool I threw caution to the wind and placed my hands at her waist, lifted her a few inches, and seated her on top of the stool. My hands made their way to her back and shoulders. I felt her slide her hands down my shirt front and slip them around to my lower back. She began gently kneading the muscles of my back that she knew gave me the most trouble. We stayed absorbed in one another for few more minutes before I tentatively moved my head back and caught her gaze.

"I really hate to stop this but you need to eat."

Moving around her and then the counter I punched the enter button on the microwave and then reached in the refrigerator for the two beers. As I handed one can to Vic it occurred to me to ask, "How did you get here?"

"Omar."

"Omar? But, you don't like him." I gave her look, daring her to deny it.

"Yeah, well I wasn't thrilled with the blizzard rerouting me from Denver either. But, Henry made all the arrangements and I guess that was why Omar was on his best behavior."

"Henry?" I was sure my challenging look had morphed in one of confusion.

She nodded, "Henry said to wish you a belated Merry Christmas."

Confusion gave way to suspicion. "And Omar?"

Her mouth twitched into a grin, "He said Henry paid for the fuel."

I shook my head and probably rolled my eyes a bit higher than I had intended. As she started to laugh at me I told her, "Remind me to talk to those two about putting my undersheriff such dangerous situations."

Doing little to control her laughter she choked out, "Oh no, leave me out of it. I refuse to be a part of you being ungrateful for your Christmas gift. Besides, flying in with Omar was probably safer than waiting out the blizzard conditions with all the bitching and moaning going at the airport."

The microwave dinged, I grabbed a towel to pull her plate out and set it in front of her along with a knife and fork from the drawer. I watched her face as she put the first bite of ravioli in her mouth and I heard her make a noise that up until now I thought was reserved for certain special moments between us. She closed her eyes, completely focused on savoring all the flavors and textures in her mouth. I had seen many expressions on Vic's face over the years and I'd swear the one I was looking at that moment was pure ecstasy. It might sound crazy, maybe it was crazy, but I felt the slightest bit jealous at that moment. I really didn't want to watch her as she experienced the food but I could not tear my eyes away from her face. She tasted a bite of the chicken next. The display of emotion on her face along with the little noises she made heightened my jealousy just a notch. I needed to get away from her before I interrupted her dinner, so that I could be the one causing her such intense pleasure.

I stepped around the counter, "I'm gonna go get a shower."

As I started past her, she reached a hand out to my arm. My progress momentarily stalled and my attention drawn fully to her. Her lupine smile and flashing eyes turned up to me as she drew me in toward her. If her earlier kiss had been consuming this one was utterly engulfing. I had never known it was possible to feel as though I were swallowing and being swallowed at the same time. The heat emanating from her body enveloped me as her eyes locked with mine. Her stare held a purpose and I felt myself nodding. She released my arm and I resumed my retreat to the bedroom.

I stood in the shower and wondered what it was she had silently asked. What exactly had I agreed to? We had a history of sharing each other's thoughts, finishing one another's sentences, and answering some questions before they were completely asked. But in this case I had nodded because I thought I should nod. And now I wondered just what it was that nod had committed me to.

With my shower complete I donned my most comfortable pair of sweat pants and the new Philadelphia Eagles sweatshirt Cady and Michael had sent me for Christmas. I returned to the front room and noticed Vic was in the kitchen. She cleaned up her dinner dish and had just finished putting the two pieces of tiramisu on a couple of paper plates when I entered.

She looked up at me as I approached, "So you're getting married huh?"

I smiled at her teasing tone, "I don't know. Am I?"

"Well if you are I think you should consider upgrading your kitchen. Your wife is gonna want a better kitchen."

I rounded the counter. "She knows she can have anything she wants."

"I hope you know how demanding she can be."

"Oh, I know."

She aimed one finger toward my middle and I tightened up my midsection. She poked but hit firm muscles and arched and eyebrow at me.

So, I arched an eyebrow back.

Vic smacked my shoulder, "_That_ was a joke."

"Right."

Another smack to my arm.

I got my revenge by reaching around and quickly pinching her butt. Then I ran for the bedroom. I knew I couldn't get away, but if she caught me on the bed I was sure she would choose to take her revenge in a more pleasurable way.

We were on the couch, me tucked into the corner with one leg on and one leg off the couch; Vic cradled along my chest. When and how we navigated to our current position I wasn't sure, nor did I know how long we had been there. The fire had died down and the room was beginning to cool rather quickly. I held her and felt as though I was breathing for the first time in months. The unexpected change in Vic's thinking of our relationship, her proposal, seeing the knife in her abdomen, learning of the loss of a baby I hadn't known about, and the awkwardness between us after all that had had me holding my breath. Something I hadn't been fully aware I was doing until I realized it felt like I was breathing again. A sigh escaped me and caused Vic to stir. Her left hand moved up my chest a little bit, coming up from under the blanket a few inches, the ring reflected light from somewhere in the room. My arms tightened around her just the slightest bit. It felt good to be breathing again. I tilted her back into the couch a little further, brought my leg up from the floor, drew the blanket up over both of us, and closed my eyes.


End file.
